


Strangeness and Charm

by AndalusianSunshine



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood and Violence, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 04:50:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndalusianSunshine/pseuds/AndalusianSunshine
Summary: Fernando is a serial killer, but Sergio refuses to diebased on this prompt by diegoalvesisgod:You are a serial killer and you picked me as a target, but I’m immortal and you can’t kill me, but hey, you trying is really funny, let’s do it again.





	Strangeness and Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from Florence + the Machine

“That was my favorite t-shirt,” Sergio says angrily and frowns down at the blood splatters all across the front of his pink shirt. 

“This can’t be…i stabbed you fourty times,” the guy looks like he’s seen a ghost, his face ashen-pale and his mouth agape. “You should be dead.”

“Obviously i’m not,” Sergio rolls his eyes and pulls the knife out of his chest, lets it clatter to the floor noisily. He’s still a little annoyed about his ruined outfit, but mostly he’s just amused at the guy’s look of sheer horror. 

“You know,” he lets his gaze wander across the room. “That’s really not a good way to kill someone. It’s gonna take you forever to clean all this up,” he laughs and brushes the dirt off his jeans, picks up his phone and walks away. If he wasn’t so obviously a serial killer, the guy would actually be kind of cute, he thinks as he hurries towards his car.

*

Sergio is halfway to his mailbox, when he notices some very suspicious rustling in the bushes in his front yard. He sneaks down the path carefully and parts the branches at the top, grinning when he stares right into the surprised face of the guy from last night.

“Don’t you think you should at least tell me your name if you’re stalking me now,” he asks calmly, the corners of his mouth twitching with an amused smile.

“I’m…,” the guy blinks in surprise. There’s a leaf stuck in his hair and it looks so ridiculous, Sergio can’t help but laugh.

“Did you forget your name?” 

“It’s Fernando.”

“Nice to meet you, Fernando,” Sergio says politely and holds out his hand. “I’m Sergio.”

Fernando stares at the outstretched hand for a long time before he finally grasps it and shakes it. The hedge rustles softly. “You shouldn’t even be alive,” he says incredulously.

Sergio shrugs. “I am though.”

Fernando looks at him wide eyed. “What are you?”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me,” Sergio laughs softly.

“Try me.”

Sergio ignores him and turns towards the house. “Wanna come in for a coffee?” 

“But i’m a serial killer,” Fernando says dumbstruck.

“Yeah, and i’m immortal,” Sergio shrugs. “Now come on, my breakfast is getting cold.”

Fernando finally steps out of the hedge and Sergio snatches the leave out of his hair before he turns towards the house, Fernando trails after him reluctantly.

 

He pours them both a cup of coffee, puts his now cold eggs back on the stove and prepares some more toast. Fernando’s rustling with the newspaper and it feels oddly domestic when he puts the plates down on the table and Fernando smiles up at him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sergio slides onto the bench next to Fernando, reaching for a piece of the newspaper. He takes a sip of his coffee and almost spits it across the table. “Fuck, did you just poison in my coffee?”

“How did you …?” Fernando frowns

“It tastes bitter as fuck,” Sergio grimaces.

“Sorry,” Fernando grins sheepishly. “I had to try again.”

“I hope you know it’s not gonna work,” Sergio groans, his stomach already clenching painfully. “You better make sure i don’t throw up all over myself,” is the last thing he says before he passes out.

*

Sergio doesn’t see Fernando for an entire week after that. Until he wakes up one morning to Fernando kneeling on his bed and a rope tied around his neck.

“Are you serious?” he groans and rubs his eyes. “How did you even get in here?”

“You left the door to the porch open.”

“Oh,” Sergio hesitates for a moment before his mouth curls into a lazy smirk. “You know, there are much better things you could do with that rope.”  
Fernando blushes and tightens the noose. “Shut up.”

“Why do you keep doing this?” Sergio nudges Fernando to the side and loosens the rope again.

“What?” Fernando sits back against the headboard and snatches one of Sergio’s pillows.

Sergio scoots up and mirrors Fernando’s position, pulls the rope over his head. “Trying to kill me.”

Fernando shrugs. “Dunno, can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Is that so,” Sergio leans over, elbows propped up on a pillow as he blinks up at Fernando coyly. “Didn’t know i was that irresistible.”

“That’s not what i meant,” Fernando stutters, cheeks crimson. “It’s just… i can’t believe i haven’t managed to kill you yet.”

“That’s charming,” Sergio snorts and rolls out of bed. 

“Where are you going?”

“To take a shower,” Sergio stretches his arms above his head. “You can try to kill me again afterwards.”

“Fine,” Fernando doesn’t look entirely please. “I’m gonna make some coffee then.”

“Help yourself.”

 

The hot water feels amazing on his skin, soothing his stiff muscles and for a few long moments he dips his head under the spray and lets his mind wander.

It’s the creaking of the bathroom door that eventually pulls him out of his thoughts. 

“I was worried you might have drowned,” Fernando laughs, lingering in the door frame. “Coffee is ready.”

“I’ll be right out,” Sergio says, not missing the way Fernando’s gaze rakes up and down his naked body. He turns off the water and steps out, smirking at Fernando’s flustered expression.

He wraps a towel around his hips and blinks up at Fernando. “You can kill me now,” he says offhandedly and steps up to the mirror to fix his hair.

Fernando studies him for a long time. “Lets have breakfast first.”

*

 _Fifty one, fifty two, fifty three,_ …. His muscles ache, there’s sweat running down his back and he’s so focussed on getting through his exercise that he doesn’t notice the creaking of the floorboards or the shadowy silhouette moving through the mirrors.

There’s a sudden thump on the back of his head and then everything goes dark.

 

It takes a few seconds until the dizziness fades completely and he can open his eyes again. He blinks up at Fernando standing over him, holding one of his weights in his right hand. His expression is less than pleased.

“Was that really necessary?” Sergio grumbles, rubbing the back of his head.

“Sorry,” Fernando shrugs.

“You do know what immortal means, right?” Sergio asks tiredly. “I can’t be killed.”

“I know,” Fernando gnaws on his bottom lip. “I can’t help it. I’m a perfectionist. I’ve never failed before,” he says disappointedly.

Sergio hums noncommittally and climbs to his feet. He turns to reach for his water bottle and hears Fernando wince behind him. “What?”

Fernando reaches for his arm and wordlessly drags him out of the room.

“Where are we going?”

“To wash your hair. It’s full of blood.”

“I wonder how that happened,” Sergio chuckles, his grin growing even wider when Fernando starts blushing furiously.

 

“So what do you do when you’re not out trying to kill me?” Sergio asks, kneeling in front of the bathtub and rinsing his hair under their shower head. Fernando is somewhere behind him playing with the cap of the shampoo bottle.

Instead of an answer, he suddenly feels Fernando’s strong fingers slide into his wet hair.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice suddenly breathless and he’s about to protest that he can wash his hair perfectly fine by himself, but Fernando’s hands feel entirely too good, playing with his hair and caressing his skin. He barely manages to swallow a moan, squirming when Fernando’s touch sends a sharp tingle down his spine. 

“Hold still,” Fernando scolds and pushes his head back under the hot spray, but Sergio abruptly jerks his head to the side, just barely managing to avoid getting his head shoved under water.

“You’re not going to drown me, are you? Getting water out of my lungs is a fucking pain in the ass.”

“I’m not,” Fernando laughs and pushes him back under water, rinses the last drops of shampoo out of his hair. “Relax. ”

*

The sound of the gun shot still rings dull in his ears as Sergio peals the bullet out the wall, where it had gotten stuck right after piercing his chest and coincidentally his favorite hoodie.

“Did you really think a bullet would kill me after stabbing me didn’t work?” he asks disapprovingly and also a little exasperated at losing yet another piece of clothing to Fernando’s curiosity.

He turns to face Fernando. “I’m seriously starting to question your …,” but the next words get stuck in his throat when his gaze falls on Fernando’s shirt. “What the fuck are you wearing?” he blurts out, his brows furrowed in disgust.

Fernando frowns. “What’s wrong with my …?” he looks down at his Atletico Madrid jersey questioningly, but then his eyes widen in sudden, dreadful realization. “Oh God no, don’t tell me you’re one of _them_?” 

There’s so much contempt in his voice that Sergio can’t help but laugh out loud. “Of course i am, the only proper team in this city,” he says proudly. “You know i’m not sure we can be friends anymore,” he smirks.

Fernando shakes his head, laughing. “So let me get this straight. You don’t mind me killing you on a regular basis but you draw the line at football allegiances?” 

“Something like that,” Sergio’s eyes are drawn into thin lines from smiling so much. “Give me a minute to get changed and then we can discuss whose team is superior.”

“Fine,” Fernando sprawls out on the sofa. “But you better not come back wearing a Real Madrid jersey.”

“No promises,” Sergio chuckles and bounds up the stairs.

*

There’s a click, a screeching sound followed by familiar footsteps. Sergio stretches languidly on the sofa.

“Hi, Fernando.”

“Hi,” Fernando rounds the corner and settles down next to Sergio. He frowns at the TV. “What the hell are you watching?”

“Eurovision Song Contest. How do you not know what that is?” 

“I’m glad i don’t,” Fernando sudders. “That song hurts my ears.”

Sergio is about to launch into a passionate defense of the whole thing, because really how can you not love it, but then the doorbell rings.” Would you mind getting that, please? It’s the pizza guy.”

“Gladly,” Fernando jumps to his feet. “I’ve already seen enough glitter for the rest of the year,” he all but flees from the room towards Sergio’s front door.

“Can you please not poison the pizza,” Sergio yells after him. “It makes the anchovies taste horrible.”

 

The next song is just about to start when Fernando comes back with the pizza. Sergio scoots over to make room for him. “I ordered spinach for you. I hope that’s alright?”

“It’s fine,” Fernando pulls his feet under his legs and snuggles into the cushions. “How did you know i was coming over anyway?”

“You always come on Saturday,” he grabs a piece of his pizza. “You should really switch up your schedule if you wanna surprise people.”

Fernando gnaws on his bottom lip and Sergio knows him well enough by now to know that he’s trying to figure out if he’s right. He leans over to the coffee table while Fernando is still lost in thought. “I got you something,” he says and tosses a small box at Fernando.

“What’s that?” Fernando frowns at the box and the bright purple bow sitting on top of it.

“It’s a key to my house. You always break in. The last time i checked you weren’t immortal and i rather not have you break your neck while you’re trying to climb through my window. You might as well just use the front door.”

“Thanks?” Fernando looks slightly taken aback, but he puts the key onto his keychain anyway and Sergio feels so happy about it, he even lets the Atletico Madrid keychain slide.

*

“Are you serious,” Sergio pulls the hair dryer out of the water, the shudders and shivers of being electrocuted still running up and down his spine. “How the hell am i supposed to dry my hair now?”

Fernando laughs and throws him a towel. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”

“You seem to enjoy killing me in my bathroom” Sergio muses, climbs out of the tub and wraps the towel around his waist. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s just a ploy to see me naked,” he grins when Fernando’s cheeks turn crimson.

“I’m…,” Fernando stutters and nervously runs his fingers through his hair.

“Calm down,” Sergio bumps his hip against Fernando’s as he walks past him, on the way to his closet. “I’m just teasing,” he reaches for a pair of underwear, slips them on quickly. “I have to run some errands later, wanna come?” He turns to Fernando who’s leaning against his dresser, watches him intently.

Fernando gnaws on his bottom lip. “Hey, can i ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why don’t you care that i keep killing you?”

Sergio stops midway in pulling his socks on. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just …, “ Fernando studies his fingernails. “You never complain. I kill you once a week and you never say anything. You don’t even try to stop me. I don’t get it.”

“Dunno,” Sergio shrugs. “I just figured i’d do the community a favor, I haven’t read about any murders in the news since you started killing me.”

“Oh,” Fernando mumbles and Sergio doesn’t miss the disappointment in Fernando’s voice. 

“I…,” he starts and he wants to say so much more, but Fernando is already heading towards the door, leaving the room in a hurry without even sparing a glance backwards.

 

*

Sergio doesn’t see Fernando for the next three weeks. Three weeks in which he pretends that he isn’t worried that he might have offended Fernando, that Fernando is probably just busy and not avoiding him on purpose and he can’t help but regret not calling after him when he stormed out that night, not telling him the entire truth.

He’s already in bed, lazily flicking through the channels and eyes already falling closed when he finally hears the telltale sounds of creaking floorboards. He waits with bated breath, listening into the quiet house for more sounds that will betray Fernando’s presence and it feels like forever until the door to his bedroom finally opens, revealing Fernando’s freckled face.

“Welcome back,” he greets happily and moves to the side, making room on the bed for Fernando to sit, a silent invitation to join him. “I thought you might have gotten tired of me.”

“I was busy,” Fernando shrugs and kicks off his shoes before he crawls on the bed next to Sergio. “What are you watching?”

“Nothing really,” he tosses the remote over to Fernando. “Here, you pick something.”

He leans back and smiles when Fernando starts muttering about the crap on television, only now fully realizing how much he missed the other’s company.

He’s still lost in thought when suddenly something dark obscures his vision, a softness pressing down on his nose and he feels himself slip out of consciousness.

 

When he comes to again a few minutes later his throat feels scratchy and there’s a feather sticking to his bottom lip.

“Did you just smother me with a pillow?” he asks, anger and hurt coiling tight in his gut. He plucks the feather from his mouth and glares at Fernando, silently demanding an answer.

“Yeah,” Fernando nods shyly. “Sorry.”

Sergio makes a noncommittal noise, all his anger turning into sharp disappointment and he feels incredibly stupid for thinking that Fernando would come over just to hang out with him.

“Why are you so upset?” Fernando asks and Sergio can hear the regret echo in his voice, can see it shining in his eyes, but he’s too hurt to even bear looking at him. He turns his head away, sighing heavily. 

“I thought you were fine with this?”

“Yeah well, I’m not,” Sergio says petulantly and suddenly he really just wants to be left alone. He’s never felt so used in his life. “I think it’s best if you left.”

*

Bleary-eyed and still half asleep, Sergio stumbles into the kitchen the next morning, finds Fernando chopping tomatoes and onions like he owns the place, a big pan of eggs sizzling on the stove.

“What are you doing here?” he asks and wipes his unruly hair out of his face.

“Making you breakfast.”

“I can see that,” Sergio grins and steals a slice of tomato. “But why?”

“Just because,” Fernando shrugs. “I kinda wanted to apologize for last night. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s fine,” Sergio says and steps up behind Fernando. “I just really missed you the last few weeks. I thought you’d never come back,” he admits quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Fernando’s voice sounds shaky. “I didn’t know.”

“You know…,” Sergio rests his hand lightly on the small of Fernando’s back, feels him shudder against his palm. “I’m not just letting you kill me to save other people. I also really like spending time with you.”

Fernando turns around, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I really like spending time with you too,” he whispers and they’re suddenly so close that Sergio can count the freckles on Fernando’s nose.

“Put down the knife,” he says quietly, his voice nothing more than a breathy whisper.

“Why?” Fernando asks shyly, his eyes downcast and his cheeks flushed. Sergio can’t stop staring at his lips.

“Because i’m not risking getting stabbed while i’m trying to kiss you,” he chuckles and takes another invasive step forward.

“Oh,” the knife slips from Fernando’s fingers and clutters noisily to the ground just as Sergio slots their lips together in the softest of kisses. 

He sighs at the feathery touch, his arms coming up to wrap around Fernando’s waist and pull him closer as their mouths move languidly against each other.

 

“So what are your plans for killing me today?” Sergio grins against Fernando’s lips when they finally come up for air, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

“I think i’m good,” Fernando smiles and pulls him in for another kiss, this one more insistent, more invasive, Sergio’s hands sliding under Fernando’s shirt as the first touch of their tongues sends a spark down his spine.

**Author's Note:**

> I live for Kudos and Comments! Don't be shy, i usually don't bite :)


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